


Growth

by ThreeNicotinePatches



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Not really though, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, they love each other okay, this is important
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 19:18:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10367568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeNicotinePatches/pseuds/ThreeNicotinePatches
Summary: "Soulmate" AU where you get a tattoo for everyone you fall in love withIt's in the way Tony’s left shoulder has been itching lately. There’s nothing there yet, but he can feel it happening, can feel his skin rearranging like a Mosaik and frankly, he’s freaking out.





	

Pepper’s tattoo is on her hip. Well, the one that isn’t faded yet. 

There are five dull, grey ones scattered across her body, seemingly random and different in shape and size, but what do they matter? They’re done.  It’s over. The only one she looks at these days are the sunglasses on her hip. They’re big. Obnoxiously big and shiny and she knows who they’re for, of course she knows. Tony has a little stiletto to match, right there on his ankle, bright blue and sparkly and the first time he showed her, she nearly apologized. It’s hideous and the both know, but it means love, so who’s gonna complain? 

Understandably, no one is happy when the sunglasses start losing colour. At first, it isn’t even visible, the fade from black to grey barely noticeable, but then the grey becomes off-white and the glass loses its shine and Tony leaves, a bright blue stiletto still sparkling on his skin.

But Tony is fine, he said. Its fine, he’s _fine_ \- he’s always fine.

And Pepper sighs and strokes the steering wheel on the back of her hand that just appeared the day before.

Tony is fine.

 

* * *

 

It takes about a year for the stiletto to fade. A few times, Tony thinks it must be over now: when the heel loses some of its sparkle or when the bright blue turns a bruised purple, but no. It always comes back, with a tilt of her head or the freckles on her nose.

Tony doesn’t love easy.

The stiletto is his only tattoo and he  lets the world know that he likes it that way. Of course he doesn’t, not really, but what does it matter? He has everything he needs, materially, and lately even the rest looks somewhat promising. 

Natasha moved her stuff into the tower a few weeks ago, Clint followed soon after. He doesn’t really get what their deal is - they share a tattoo (a striking blue eye and a curl of red hair), but it’s long since faded and they don’t seem to care. Bruce has one, right behind his ear. Tony notices at breakfast once, but doesn’t dare to ask. Some secrets are better to keep. Especially tiny spiders. He knows Thor has many, they cover most of his back and a great part of his chest. He is a god after all, and he loves as easy as a child. Still, the most prominent one sits above his heart, a golden horn and icy shards. 

No one ever asks about that one. 

And then there’s Steve. Steve who’s the only one with a permanent mark, whose tattoo never fades, not even when Peggy dies and her skin is washed clear. 

It’s cruel, in a way. 

It’s cruel for two reasons: one, Steve will never recover. Whatever the doctors may say, Tony knows he won’t. There’s something broken in his eyes nowadays and even though sometimes it melds again, for sweet little moments at lunch with the team or when dummy hands him the right brush, it will never be fixed, the lipstick-stain on his wrist will never leave him. And that is cruel.

The second reason is in the way Tony’s left shoulder has been itching lately. There’s nothing there yet, but he can feel it happening, can feel his skin rearranging like a Mosaik and frankly, he’s freaking out. The first root appears on a Monday, while they’re training on the roof of Avengers tower - Tony’s aim has been lacking and he wants to test the new upgrade for the suit. Steve throws a waterballoon in the air with a whoop and grins a carefree smile when Tony hits it dead on, the remains of their makeshift target raining down on Steve’s head. 

His shoulder twitches in pain when Steve giggles and he freezes. Steve notices, of course. "Are you okay, Tony? What’s wrong?” But Tony smiles and shrugs it off.

Later, in his own quarters, he can’t get his shirt off quick enough. And there it is, a small brown root, still growing on his skin. By morning, the root has a stem and a few twigs, little leaves are sprouting from its biggest branches and it looks like it may grow onto his chest. He supposes it’s pretty. It could’ve been much worse, a shield on his face or wings on his ears or whatever else Tony’s sleepdeprived brain had dreamed up ever since his skin started itching. 

It’s nice.

By evening, he doesn’t think it’s nice anymore. It just won’t stop growing. The stem reaches well past his collarbone now, the branches are encircling his arc reactor as if they’re trying to cradle it in a bed of leaves and there are small flowers blooming on some of them. It looks like he walked right through a hippie dreamland.

He puts his shirt on and forgets about it for the day.

Until he gets reminded rather forcefully. Naturally, it’s Natasha who notices first. They’re having a quiet evening for once, the lounge smells of takeaway pizza and curry and everyone’s more or less asleep. Tony is listening to Steve’s tale of his newest painting, including a detailed explanation for the streaks of paint the process left on his arm that just won’t go away, when Natasha’s hand suddenly shoots up and catches Tony’s elbow. Her eyes turn into slits as she focuses on his shoulder where his shirt is not quite covering the beginnings of a few roots. “What’s that?” she asks, but it’s not really a question and it doesn’t sound like one. The room goes even quieter than before. Tony attempts a laugh, but it comes out like a cough and now everyone’s staring at him. “It’s my new tattoo, you like it?” She raises a perfect eyebrow but it’s Clint who says something first. “Woah, when did that happen? You dog, have you been seeing someone?” “Yes. Fury. We’re getting married next month.” “WHAT?!” Tony sighs and stands up, disentangling himself from Steve’s legs that somehow always end up on his lap. “Look, it doesn’t matter.” “But-” “Clint, it doesn’t matter. That’s all.” The others share a few glances, Steve is frowning, Bruce is scratching absentmindedly at a spot behind his ear, Thor is trying to fit a whole slice of pizza into his mouth (he’s been distracted since Loki fell into the void), Natasha looks like she’s already figured out who it is and Clint is still shaken up from the Fury Comment.

For just a second, Tony considers telling them.

But it’s just a second and it passes.

 

* * *

 

He nearly burns his hand off when Steve says “I have another tattoo”, but Dummy catches the blowtorch before it sets everything on fire. “How long have you been there?” Steve smiles slightly. “A while. You didn’t hear anything I just said, did you?" 

Tony turns around and _really_ looks at Steve. He’s nervous, that much is obvious. Hopeful maybe, like someone who’s desperately holding onto something but trying to let go at the same time. It doesn’t seem to be working. "Sorry, sorry. Could you … repeat that?”

“Long or short version?” Tony scratches at a streak of oil on his cheek. “… short? For now?” Steve nods and blushes and then squares his shoulders like he’s posing for a magazine. “I have another tattoo." 

Tony’s heart does a backflip. "Y-you - really? How does that work? I mean…” he gestures to his wrist where the lipstick is clearly still bright red and shiny. Steve shrugs. “I don’t know. I just… got another tattoo and that’s it." 

"Okay, so let’s just ignore the scientific impossibility of that. Nice. Then why are you telling _me?_ Shouldn’t you be with the one it’s fo- Oh. _Oh_." 

Steve’s blush reaches his neck and he hides his face in his hands. "I know i know, it’s stupid, i just… thought you’d like to know.” he peeks through his fingers and is met with the biggest shiteating grin he’s ever seen.  
“Tony? What-" 

"You like me!" 

Steve frowns. "Well. Yes? I thought that much was obvious?” “Obvious?!? Are you kidding me?” “Tony, what do you-” “Can I see it?" 

Steve just looks at him. And then he rolls up the sleeve of his jumper, very very slowly. The paint is still there. Red and gold, in strange swirls and brushstrokes, as if Steve accidentally leant against one of his paintings.

It looks beautiful. 

"So it wasn’t just paint.” Steve shakes his head with a small smile “No. I thought it was just very resistent to soap and scrubbing at first, but… it won’t budge and- Tony. What are you doing.” Tony is very obviously removing his shirt, but that’s not what Steve is asking - When the shirt is finally tossed to some faraway corner of the workshop, Steve’s eyes widen to a very unhealthy size and he splutters: “Wow, that’s big.” Tony giggles and mumbles “that’s what she said” but Steve doesn’t seem to be listening. 

Tony’s tattoo has grown a lot these past few days. The branches carry ripe apples now, the leaves are a healthy deep green and the arc reactor is fully encircled. 

“Wow." 

"Right? Guess I like you more than I’d originally planned.” He’s going for nonchalance, but it’s clearly lost on Steve, who looks up to Tony’s face so fast he’s lucky he doesn’t get whiplash. 

“Me." 

Tony’s smile falls. "Yes…? Who else could it be?” For a few seconds, the only sound to be heard is Dummy’s confused whirring. “You - that is for me?” “I think I already said that, yes.” Steve gulps. “But. But why an appletree?” “Really? That’s the first thing that comes to your mind? Because I don’t know, okay, maybe you’re just an apple kinda guy. You know, as in wholesome American families. I don’t know.” Steve’s hand twitches towards Tony’s chest. “Can I -” “Go ahead." 

The moment Steve’s finger makes contact with one of the apples, a few more branches reach around the arc reactor and create  an even tighter net, as if holding in Tony’s wildly beating heart. Steve  sucks in a sharp breath. "It’s still growing!” Tony smiles. “Anything I could say to that would surpass the limit of sap I can take for a day.” Steve’s blush deepens and he raises his head to meet his eyes.“Say it anyway?” “I … I think if I’m very unlucky, it might never stop growing. At least if … I manage to keep you around?” There’s something beneath his words, something he doesn’t dare to say, but Steve hears it anyway. 

The paint on his right forearm pulses in deep red to the beat of his heart and he smiles when a few sprinkles of gold extend up to his elbow. “I think you’ll do just fine.”

 

* * *

 

Over the years, their tattoos grow. 

Steve’s gains colours, a diverse palette of Anthony Stark: The brown of his eyes on his upper arm, a few sprinkles of grey in the deep chestnut on his wrist, darker patches of skin on his shoulder, and the dusty rose of his lips right over his elbow, until he has a complete sleeve of brown and red and gold and every other colour that is Tony Stark. He loves wearing tanktops now, although Darcy declares it a crime in fashion about two weeks in. 

Tony only smiles. He smiles a lot these days, can’t bring himself to stop when his appletree grows stronger everyday, leaves bright and branches thick and when their little daughter says Daddy for he first time and the swings appear on the strongest one and when tattooed birds settle down in the shelter of his chest, the second set of swings already itching on his skin.

And when Steve hugs him tight on the day of Pepper’s wedding and asks if he’s okay, he touches his chest where his arc reactor lies safe and sound in a bed of leaves and apples and says he’s fine.

 

And for the first time it’s not a lie.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it, please tell me if I messed something up, I'm not a native speaker :) ♥


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